


wherever you go, bring me home

by shafferthefirst



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5x07, Canon Divergence, Competitive!FS, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shafferthefirst/pseuds/shafferthefirst
Summary: The ringing feels as though her ear canal is made of glass and someone has taken something sharp and dragged it across the surface, hard enough to make a blood-curdling sound but not as forceful to shatter it and put her out of her misery.Of course, Jemma chastises herself. Of course it couldn’t be that easy.-A take on that early 5x07 scene, only Fitz's ship doesn't explode.





	wherever you go, bring me home

**Author's Note:**

> izzy requested that i rewrite that scene but add carrying (because nothing is softer than carrying and after all that talk of pushups there's literally no reason he can't) and it kind of became something else entirely because apparently I really missed writing these nerds. 
> 
> special thanks to my girl laura for beta-ing and being a wonderful human being as always.
> 
> title is from "sea of lovers" by christina perri.

The ringing feels as though her ear canal is made of glass and someone has taken something sharp and dragged it across the surface, hard enough to make a blood-curdling sound but not as forceful to shatter it and put her out of her misery.

 

_ Of course _ , Jemma chastises herself. _ Of course it couldn’t be that easy.  _

 

Her knees wobble as she doubles over, crying out in pain. She only vaguely registers Fitz and Daisy shuffling her to the table, easing her down as she covers her ear protectively. They’re conversing frantically over her, no doubt trying to find a solution to the ringing, but her friends are speaking far too fast for her to comprehend—she’s submerged underwater and they are shouting way above the surface. She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to regulate her breathing.

 

And suddenly a familiar palm cradles her jaw, thumb warm at her cheek.

 

_ “Jemma,” _ the two syllables are still mostly muted by the screeching sound in her head, but they’re not born of the chilling cold voice that had been slithering through the haze in her ear for the past few weeks. Instead they are soft, and warm, and safe, and she has followed them across hallways and currents and space and time, and would do it all over again for less.  _ “Jemma.” _

 

She opens her eyes, tears pricking the corners. He’s a little blurry, but she can still see the protective shine in his eyes and the determined look on is face. She uncovers her ear and places her hands on his wrist and forearm, to let him know that she is listening as best as she can.

 

_ “This is gonna hurt,”  _ Jemma barely makes out. She eyes the narrow instrument he’s holding, knowing what he is about to attempt, takes a shuddering breath, and kisses his thumb.  _ I trust you. I love you.  _ She clenches her teeth and braces herself. 

 

Unable to stop the cry that escapes her lips, she squeezes his wrist to keep her body from jerking away from the source of the pain. Miraculously, it does not take him an eternity to locate the implant and rip it from where it had embedded itself over her eardrum, and the ringing stops all at once. She can feel the sound of her labored breathing and her heart racing, and she feels so out of balance and nauseous it makes her dizzy, but for the first time in weeks, all five of her senses are  _ hers _ again.

 

“Time to go!” Daisy calls out from somewhere in the room, but Jemma doesn’t trust herself to stand quite yet;luckily, Fitz seems to realize this as soon as she does, and she finds herself being scooped from the table and whisked away by loving arms. She closes her eyes and tips her forehead into the crook of his neck as he follows Daisy down the hall. 

 

“It’s alright, it’s not much further,” he murmurs into her hair. “We’re almost there.”

 

Jemma grips the lapels of his jacket tighter. The dizziness is beginning to subside, so she is probably good to walk on her own now, but even as he halts to tell them where to move next, he continues to hold her weight, with no sign of letting her down any time soon. She can’t complain, however; his embrace is warm and sturdy, in no small part thanks to some new definition in his arms that she can feel against her back and legs, definition that wasn't there before and that she is already happily memorizing. This is the closest she has physically been to him in several weeks, and she can't possibly deny this to herself so, for now, here she stays.

 

He carries her down hallways, in the lift, and through the cargo hold of his ship, only easing her onto another surface when he reaches the row of seats on the inside. He yells for Daisy to start up the engine, (“I’ve literally only driven Lola  _ once _ , Fitzopold! What makes you think I can drive a spaceship?!”) before kneeling on the floor in front of her to inspect her ear.

 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, brushing away a few stray hairs that had fallen loose from her braid. 

 

“A little motion sick, but I’ll manage,” she says softly, managing a smile. She cranes her neck forward—the motion suddenly making her aware of the drying blood trailing down her ear, but she chooses to ignore it for now—and tips her forehead against his. “I missed you.”

 

He brushes their noses together. “I missed you too.  _ God, _ I missed you.” 

 

“Well,” Jemma sighs happily, “it’s a good thing you don’t have to miss me anymore.” He makes a content noise, tilting his face up to press a soft kiss to her lips before returning his forehead to hers. They take a moment of silence, to breathe each other in, until she speaks again.

 

“So, you say you proposed first.”

 

“I did, technically.”

 

“Hmm, I’m not sure that it counts, since I didn’t hear it…”

 

“See, that’s not  _ my _ fault, plus I didn’t  _ know  _ that yet _ , _ so.”

 

“I suppose there’s only one way to remedy that.”

 

“Though there’s nothing to remedy, since I  _ did _ do it—”

 

“You’ll just have to tell me everything you said,” she grins smugly as his breath hitches. “Now, to make it even.”

 

“Well,” Fitz scratches at the back of his neck.

 

She arches an eyebrow. “Well? Go on then.”

 

_ “Well,  _ you see, I,” he pulls both of her hands into his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “I wasn’t planning on asking you—I mean I  _ was _ , just not right  _ there _ , but I sort of… saw you and I had to say it right then.”

 

“Fitz,” she blushes, “and… what was  _ it _ , exactly?”

 

“I… I didn’t exactly  _ write it down, _ Jemma. I just said what I was feeling.”

 

_ “Oh, _ that is  _ such _ a cop out!”

 

“What?” he says, indignant, “That I spoke from the heart?” She gives him a pointed look, and he sighs, kissing the back of her hand. “Okay, it was pretty much just… I love you. I know I’ve said—and you won’t let me live it down, thank you—that we’re cursed, but I was wrong. Everytime we’re pulled in different directions has made me feel that way, but, really, the fact that we continue to fight our way back to each other is what I should have been focusing on. Because we’re pretty damn good at that, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” she smiles widely.

 

“We’re unstoppable together. The cosmos, the universe… what we have, our love, it’s stronger than any curse they could throw at us. We’re both too stubborn, and, lord help us if we have kids because they’re going to be right stubborn assholes, the lot of them.”

 

Jemma lets out a peal of laughter, eyes shining, “They will be.” She pulls her hands free from his gentle grip to cradle both sides of his face. “You really said all that?”

 

“Most of it, anyway. But I added what I’m feeling right now too.”

 

“Well, by all means, go on.”

 

He clears his throat. “I’ve counted, and I’ve quite literally spent seventy-four years, six months, four weeks, and three days without you—”

 

“—Wait,  _ what?”  _ Her face pales. “Fitz, what the  _ hell  _ did you do?!”

 

He quickly grabs her face and kisses her silent, until her tense shoulders loosen. “Story for another time, right, love? I promise. I’ll even buy the gin. Lots of it. Just let me get through this, okay?” She exhales slowly, and then nods. “Okay. You are my best friend, my partner in every way, and I don’t want to spend another day on Earth, Maveth, the past, the future, or hell, even the surface of the  _ sun _ , without you. I promise to stay by your side for so long you get sick of me, and even some after.”   
  


“Never,” she murmurs, and Fitz wipes a stray tear from her eye. 

 

“Jemma Anne Simmons,” he says, throat catching only a few syllables in, “will you marry me?”

 

“I still proposed first, but yes, I  _ will _ marry you, Leopold James Fitz.” She drags him up and kisses him senseless before he can protest her declaration, locking her arms around his neck as she tilts her head to deepen it, and brushing his tongue with hers. His hands circle her waist and he pulls her flush close.

 

“ATTENTION LOVENERDS,” Daisy’s voice cuts through the intercom system Fitz was not aware the ship had until this very moment, causing them to freeze on the spot. “This is your captain speaking, just reminding you that we are trying to escape, so please save the honeymoon for when we get back to our time. Thank you!”

 

“And, that’s our cue,” Fitz groans, extracting his limbs from hers and helping her to her feet. “Time to save the world, again.”

 

“There’s no one I would rather save it with,” Jemma says sweetly, placing a hand on his chest, “than with my  fiancé .” She giggles when she feels his heart beat faster at the last word.

 

He grins. “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
